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So... since my separation I have been rather kicking over the traces (if that's the phrase I'm looking for) when I don't have the kids with me. The kids though are the ludic meaning of life, for all that one has to correct them.
I'm too old for Tinder (there's a cut-off age I have somehow exceeded) and most dating sites seem... er... well I'll give 'em a go, but am not that hopeful.
Added to which the impulse to explore those things which I have never really gotten around to doing, yet were still within my moral framework, means there are so many possibilites that I'm as confused as a schoolboy about to blow his yearly allowance on a trip to the tuck shop.
I feel a dash of the Scarlet Pimpernels coming on. Or is it Valmont from another book I mean instead? Or maybe even I could try to be Marguerite this time around? Or Isherwood in Berlin...
Or maybe even just make sure I have the Adagietto to Mahler's Fifth on constant rotation on my iPod, and Venice shall be my Jerusalem.
After finding the small shadows on the lungs, and in light of this new single status, I think the bucket-list has to be explored pretty thoroughly. With appropriate decency to the other people involved, of course. And I should definitely try to get it all on cam to embarrass my descendants in the years to come.
Maybe not a woman this time. Unless the right one comes along, of course.
I'm too old for Tinder (there's a cut-off age I have somehow exceeded) and most dating sites seem... er... well I'll give 'em a go, but am not that hopeful.
Added to which the impulse to explore those things which I have never really gotten around to doing, yet were still within my moral framework, means there are so many possibilites that I'm as confused as a schoolboy about to blow his yearly allowance on a trip to the tuck shop.
I feel a dash of the Scarlet Pimpernels coming on. Or is it Valmont from another book I mean instead? Or maybe even I could try to be Marguerite this time around? Or Isherwood in Berlin...
Or maybe even just make sure I have the Adagietto to Mahler's Fifth on constant rotation on my iPod, and Venice shall be my Jerusalem.
After finding the small shadows on the lungs, and in light of this new single status, I think the bucket-list has to be explored pretty thoroughly. With appropriate decency to the other people involved, of course. And I should definitely try to get it all on cam to embarrass my descendants in the years to come.
Maybe not a woman this time. Unless the right one comes along, of course.
